"Sleeves—" Chu Fu stretched out his clenched hands from his sleeves, slowly spread them out, and caressed his cold face inch by inch.
He was still as handsome as ever against the white clothes he was buried in.
"Huaixiu..." He couldn't help but call his name again. Chu Fu looked at Qu Huaixiu in the coffin, but carefully discovered that he still had a gentle smile on his lips, who was already dead.
It was so warm and friendly that even Chu Fu's mood relaxed.
Chu Fu supported the outer edge and leaned into the coffin. The hem of the clothes showed a beautiful arc, and the red was bright and dazzling.
Such a color should not appear here. The wedding dress embroidered with peonies covered the white robe of the person in the coffin. Chu Fu lay beside him, and with some difficulty opened his arms to hug Qu Huaixiu's cold body.
"Huai Xiu..." Chu Fu hugged him and called him repeatedly.
"Huai Xiu, did you know that the city is full of mist and rain in the south of the Yangtze River again..."
"Huai Xiu, do you know that the white pears at the top of the city are withering and the spring apricots are little...
"Huai Xiu, did you know that the rising water in the Huaihe River makes all boats richer and fishermen richer...
Whispering, Chu Fu's words dispersed into mist in the misty rain in June, knowing full well that he could not hear, could not answer, could no longer lean on her shoulder and kiss her forehead.
He could no longer hear it, but Chu Fu was still whispering in his ear, and his lips accidentally touched his cold earlobe, which made his heart feel cold and lifeless.
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